


I Want To Hold Your Hand

by gazebos-bullshit (whateverhappenedtoromance)



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Reddie, The Losers Club, au where everyone’s happy and there’s no homophobic killer clown, implied benverly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 13:34:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20528855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whateverhappenedtoromance/pseuds/gazebos-bullshit
Summary: a regular day at the barrens leads to something more





	I Want To Hold Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> hello clowns, in honor of me seeing it2 in less than 12 hours (!!!) i have emerged from the sewers after 27 years to post this impromptu reddie fic. i didn’t proof this so sorry for mistakes lol enjoy
> 
> (tumblr: gazebos-bullshit)

It was the week before the first day back at school. Like any other middle schoolers, the Losers were distracting themselves from the looming school year by spending the day at the barrens.  
The day had started out like any other, with them all meeting up on main street and riding down on their bikes from there.  
When they’d set down their things and laid out some towels, Bev revealed a couple of blunts she’d stolen from her father.( “He just left them lying out on the counter, so…” she’d said with a smirk.) But the only one to take her up on the offer was Richie - no one else entirely trusted possessions of her father, especially if they were drugs. Plus, Eddie had gone off on a tangent of the dangers of smoking, though this didn’t have much to do with the others’ decisions. (“...I get asthma attacks just from smelling cigarette smoke - what do you think directly inhaling actual cannabis will do to my lungs? Not to mention the effects drugs have on your brain, especially when it’s still developing...”)  
For the first few hours, Bev and Richie were giggling messes. They sat in the grass speaking nonsense and laughing uncontrollably and throwing pebbles at each other. They ended up eating all of the sandwiches Mike had brought, but the others didn’t notice until it was past noon and they were all hungry. Mike promised to go get more, but his house was the furthest away and no one wanted to make him bike that far alone.  
Richie exhaled deeply, the last effects of the high starting to wear off. He leaned back against a rock and watched Bill, Stan, and Eddie wade out of the water to join Mike.  
“Alright ladies?” he called jokingly. Stan rolled his eyes and Eddie gave him the finger.  
“Stan and I are g-gonna go with Mike to get some lunch,” Bill said, wrapping a towel around his shoulders. He added under his breath, “Since you ate ours.”  
Richie chose to ignore the last bit. “Can you guys get some snacks?” he said eagerly.  
Stan raised his eyebrows. “Dude, you just ate four fucking sandwiches.”  
“And?”  
“Do you really need more food?” Stan said incredulously, folding his arms like a stressed mother. Mike put a hand on his shoulder and turned to Richie.  
“We’ll get you one thing. What do you want?”  
Without hesitation he answered, “Goldfish.”  
Eddie smirked. “What are you, five?”  
“Five inches deep in your mom!” Richie chuckled at his own joke; he still wasn’t completely sober.  
“Ok, we’ll be back in twenty minutes,” Mike said.  
Stan eyed Eddie and nodded towards Richie. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”  
“What, me? Stupid?” Richie said in a very bad British accent. “Never!”  
Stan just looked at him. “Ok,” he muttered before heading off with the other two, who mouthed “good luck” to Eddie.  
Eddie sat on a towel next to Richie’s rock. He watched Richie nod his head back and forth, a habit he had when he zoned out. But he suddenly sat up straight and looked around, a worried look on his face. Eddie eyed him nervously. “Rich? You ok?”  
Richie looked around him once more. “Where did Ben and Bev go?” he asked anxiously.  
Eddie rolled his eyes and glared. “Are you serious?” he grumbled. “They went for a walk ten minutes ago, you dumbass. They literally asked you if you wanted to go.”  
Richie stared at him blankly for a second before coming around. “Oh yea.” He giggled at himself while Eddie glowered at him; he’d actually been worried that something was wrong, but of course it was just Richie being stupid.  
The air was humid and sticky, as summer air should be. Richie wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and adjusted his glasses. “Can we go in the water?”  
Eddie glanced at him. “I don’t know...I don’t want you to drown or anything,” he said unsurely, unfortunately aware of his damp hair sticking to his own forehead.  
“I’m not gonna drown, Eds,” Richie laughed. “I know how to fuckin’ swim.” He stood up and took his shirt and glasses off.  
“Yea, but you just smoked weed,” Eddie protested, though he was also standing up now.  
“That was like, four hours ago,” Richie said. “It’s worn off by now.” He raced toward the water at full speed, glancing over his shoulder to shout, “Plus, being high doesn’t mean you can’t swim.” He dove in head first, disappearing under the choppy waves.  
Despite his concerns, Eddie followed him in. The icy water nipped at his skin, a stark contrast from the summer heat. Richie resurfaced, shaking his head like a wet dog. Eddie flinched when droplets of water from Richie’s hair sprayed him in the face.  
“Ah! Stop!” he yelled, wiping his eyes.  
“What, you don’t like that, Eds?” Richie teased.  
“No, I don’t - ” He’d barely uttered the words before a massive splash from Richie knocked him backwards. Water went up his nose and into his mouth, causing him to let out a horrified shriek.  
Richie howled with laughter. “Holy shit!” he cried, his cheeks reddening. Eddie glared back at him.  
“Oh, you’re fucking getting it now,” he shouted.  
“Really? That’s what your mom said last night!” Richie countered, before he too was splashed in the face.  
Eddie grinned as he watched Richie recover, but his triumph was short-lived; Richie spat the water out of his mouth right in front of him. Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sight.  
“Ew! Ew, Richie!” he screeched, moving away from the glob of spit while simultaneously trying to push it away.  
“Hey, that’s kind of your own fault, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie said matter-of-factly.  
“Don’t call me that,” Eddie replied automatically. The response was second nature at this point, yet never failed to prompt a rosy flush across his cheeks - something he prayed Richie never noticed.  
(Richie always noticed. But he never commented on it, nor took it to heart - he didn’t want to get his hopes up over something that was probably nothing. Plus, pointing out Eddie’s blush would just draw attention to the matching one that bloomed across his own face, which he had no prepared excuse for.)  
“Why not, Spaghetti?” Richie teased. He pinched Eddie’s scarlet cheeks. “It’s a cute nickname - just like you!”  
“Stop that,” Eddie groused, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. He folded his arms defiantly.  
“Cute, cute, cute!” Richie cried, his tone still humorous.  
“I said stop!” Eddie grabbed Richie’s hands, gripping them tightly and pushing them away from his face. Richie pushed back, laughing loudly. They wrestled each other, and even Eddie had trouble keeping a straight face.  
They paused to catch their breath, but each time they looked at each other they both started laughing again. It wasn’t until he’d actually calmed down that Eddie realized they were still holding hands.  
He went silent, a flutter developing in his chest. Looking up, he figured Richie had realized too; he was also quietly eyeing their intertwined fingers.  
Neither of them moved.  
Richie swallowed thickly, his heart pounding. Usually in moments like this he’d crack a joke, or point out something funny, or say something. But he was frozen.  
Their eyes met nervously. By this point both were aware of the tension that hung between them, but neither knew what to do.  
“Um,” Richie said slowly, “can I try something?”  
Eddie felt his heart leap to his throat. He nodded.  
Richie leaned forward, unsure at first. But Eddie didn’t move away, so in one quick motion he pressed their lips together. It was short and sloppy and not well thought out, but it eased the tension.  
When they pulled away, both their faces were bright red. They stared at each other, and almost immediately broke into a relieved laughter.  
“I’m glad you tried that,” Eddie said softly.  
“Me too,” Richie said, resisting the urge to make a joke about his mom. They smiled at each other like idiots, breaking into laughter again.  
They were still holding hands.


End file.
